St. Paul’s Hospital ward team eases conditions for patient - and family

Tenia (left) and Cilika Domjan attended Tenia's high school graduation in 2009.Photo by
Submitted photo

To me it seemed like faith. I’m sitting in a hospital chair in St. Paul’s reading The Province regarding an upcoming series of articles on St. Paul’s at the same time that St. Paul’s became my life.

My name is Tenia Domjan, I’m 20 years old and have lived in the Lower Mainland all my life. I’ve spent a lot of time in hospitals, mainly St. Paul’s, in the last couple of years, but not for me — for my mom, Cilika Domjan. When my mom was pregnant with me at 21, she got Type 1 diabetes. Around the age of 35, she was diagnosed with kidney failure and from there went onto dialysis and needed a transplant. St. Paul’s became a big part of my family’s life pretty much overnight.

My mom was there at least a few times a month for training, clinics and appointments. Besides my grandmother, who was there every step of the way with my mom, her team of doctors was amazing.

Dr. Taylor and Dr. Jamal from 6A Kidney Clinic were her backbone — truly nice guys that my mom got along with really well. Things were going OK; however, she did lose most of her vision. But she didn’t let that hold her back whatsoever. She went on vacation to see Fleetwood Mac in concert in Tacoma, went camping in Mission and did her dialysis in the bush. She was still able to do day-to-day things except drive, which took away a lot of her independence.

In July 2011, my mom got an infection. When on peritoneal dialysis (home dialysis), you are susceptible to getting peritonitis. My mom got it twice. She spent a lot of time in 6B ward in St. Paul’s — she was pretty much in and out all year. (I celebrated my 20th birthday in 6B.)

It seemed that once they finally got rid of one type of infection, she got another one. For a few months she had to be at the hospital every day to get intravenous antibiotics. She became very familiar with all the nurses and staff, even the lady that delivered her lunch. The doctors had no choice but to take her off peritoneal dialysis and put her on hemodialysis. This broke my mother’s heart. It took away her routine just when she had got used to it.

Every second day, my grandfather would drive my mom from Richmond to St. Paul’s at six in the morning to take her to hemo and then pick her up again. My mom hated this. She hated getting up so early every morning, mainly because she suffered from severe nausea and vomiting.

Near the end of March this year, my mom received a surgery to address the infections in her abdomen. They discovered that her bowel had small ruptures throughout, caused by scar tissue strangling her lower organs. They were unable to do anything surgically to help her, which was hard to accept. My family and I had various meeting with teams of doctors who explained the situation. They said if there was anything at all that they could do, they would try to help her, but her chances of survival were limited by her condition.

For just under a week my family and I pretty much lived at St. Paul’s, mainly in the palliative care ward. The doctors and nurses there made sure she was as comfortable as possible, giving her a bath daily and moving her so she didn’t get bed sores. They took good care of her, as well as my family and I. They were there to talk if we needed some support or to get coffee or tea. They even made a bed for us to sleep in. I bet they would have tucked us in if we’d asked!

Not only did they make my mom comfortable in her last days there, they made my family’s last days with my mom comfortable. Some of the nurses from 6B even came to say “Hi” and “Goodbye.”

At this point, my mom was pretty much in a coma, but I know she would have appreciated it as over the years my mom had to be hospitalized many times and always on 6B, so she got to know the staff on that ward very well. I cannot say enough about the care and attention she received from the nurses on 6B. They were always there for my mom, not only as nurses but as friends.

I know my story doesn’t have a fairytale ending, that she was magically cured and got a second chance at life. But some of the greatest stories have tragic endings.

Cilika Domjan was born on May 19, 1970 and passed away April 20, 2012.

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